Death of a Master
by SCIFIsh
Summary: This is about RyGaul, Master of Tru Veld, and how he dies during Episode III. RR, please and thank you!
1. Side by Side

A/N: This is going to be a lot of stuff to read, but if you really want to know how Ry-Gaul died (like I did), you'll read this. Hopefully, you'll enjoy it. And special thanks to my beta, Shoeanders. –Scifish

xxxxx

Jedi Master Ry-Gaul let out a grunt as he slashed through the last of the droids. His body, though extremely large, was basically solid muscle and moved with grace and ease. He wiped his forehead quickly with his muscular arm, and smiled.

_Another exercise—finished._

This was his third exercise today, and he'd demolished more droids in less time than his previous two.

_Maybe I should take a break?_

He stopped for a moment to think and cool off slightly.

_Nah. So what if I have a meeting with the Council in a few hours? I need to train hard now, and I can get ready later._

Though he was beginning to tire, he decided to persevere.

_Next exercise, how about some one-on-one?_

He glanced around for another Jedi to spar with, but was met with disappointment. The only other Jedi in the room were some Padawans and a medic.

_So much for that idea..._

He tossed his head to make himself more alert, and prepared himself for some more droids.

XXX

Two hours later…

"Master Ry-Gaul?" Barriss Offee popped her head in the training room. "In case you haven't noticed, you've been working for over six hours. Have you considered resting?"

With a flick of his wrist, Ry-Gaul paused the droids, his twelfth set. He peered over the immobilized droids at his friend.

"Actually, no."

"And have you noticed that several Padawans and younglings have been staring at you for quite some time instead of fulfilling their responsibilities?"

"Really?"

"Yes—shows how much you're aware, huh?"

Ry-Gaul just stared.

"You do realize you have a meeting with the Council in about fifteen minutes, right?" Barriss cocked an eyebrow.

"Yes."

"You plan to be presentable in fifteen minutes?"

"Yes."

"Is that accomplishable?"

"Quite."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"You know, I doubt you can do that."

Ry-Gaul rolled his eyes in a response of "Whatever."

"Do you plan on speaking more than one word at a time to the Council?"

"No."

"Really? It's so hard to get you to stop talking!"

Ry-Gaul's blank stare suddenly burst into a grin. "I know."

He flicked his wrist again, and the temporarily paused droids roared back to life. The biggest one rushed at Barriss.

"Whoa!" She barely had time to Force-flip out of the way and ignite her lightsaber.

"Alertness?" Ry-Gaul shot her a grin.

In a matter of seconds, she'd demolished the remaining droids as Ry-Gaul watched in amusement. "Thanks a lot!" she shot back, her voice indignant.

"Anytime." With a smile and a wink, Ry-Gaul walked past the ruffled Jedi and headed to his room.

_Eleven minutes to get Tru and get to the Council Room._

XXX

_What would Barriss think of me now?_

He'd had eleven minutes to get cleaned up…

_And I've done a good job, too._

Ry-Gaul grinned in spite of himself—he'd proved her wrong. He shook his head.

_Women…they always think they're right._

"Master! Why were we called here?" Tru asked.

He smiled at his Padawan. "You'll find out."

_The boy usually never asks… mostly because I usually tell him… but I guess he knows something is different about today._

Tru just rolled his almond-shaped eyes and walked two steps away in mock disgust.

Ry-Gaul laughed inwardly.

_Another sign that he's ready._

With shining eyes, he looked at his Padawan. Usually, he was not emotional, but today… Today was different.

_This will be the last time we enter that room as a Master/Padawan team._

Tru caught him staring.

"What?" His voice held a hint of annoyance. "Master," he said with a slightly apologetic tone, "with all due respect, why are you acting so WEIRD?" He flapped his flexible arms in the air for emphasis.

Ry-Gaul raised an eyebrow.

Tru's voice had returned to its annoyed tone. "I do not mean to be insolent, but…you're not emotional, and your eyes are shiny. You usually let me know what's going on so I don't have to ask, but today you haven't told me anything!"

Ry-Gaul blinked.

The Padawan took a deep breath and let it out. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't lash out—especially at my Master. But what I meant to say was, is anything the matter?"

Ry-Gaul blinked and shook his head.

_The boy will find out in a few minutes…it's best to keep it a surprise._

Suddenly, the Council Room door opened, and an attendant said, "The Council will see you now."

Ry-Gaul walked in first, with Tru exactly a step behind him.

_This is the last time we'll walk in this way._

He steeled himself, and prepared to let his Padawan go.

XXX

When the two Jedi entered, they observed that all of the Council seats were filled—not with holograms, but with the actual Council Member.

_Wow…didn't expect this—well, it makes today all the more memorable._

When they'd reached the center of the floor, they exchanged the customary bows with the other Jedi.

Master Mace Windu broke the silence.

"Master Ry-Gaul, the Council has decided that your Padawan, Tru Veld, is ready to become a Jedi Knight in the ranks of the Jedi Order. Do you give your consent?"

Ry-Gaul smiled and said, "Yes."

Windu shifted slightly and looked Tru in the eye. "The Council has decided that you are ready to become a Jedi Knight."

Master Yoda had continued, "Passed your examinations, you have. A Knight now, you are."

Ry-Gaul could do naught but beam with pride.

Tru was so surprised that all he could stammer out was, "T-t-thank you." Tru glanced at his now-ex-master with a look of acknowledgment.

It was all Ry-Gaul could do from giving an "I (didn't) told you so" look.

All he got in return was a sheepish grin.

After the customary ending bows, the two Jedi were dismissed.

They walked out of the Council Room… this time, and for the first time, side by side.


	2. Memoirs

Ry-Gaul walked out of his room onto the outdoor balcony. The cool twilight air was refreshing, and he breathed it in gratefully.

_I think I'll go for a walk… later._

He leaned against the rail, enjoying the feel of the smooth, cool stone. He drummed his fingers on the marbled rock and sighed.

_It's nice to relax after a long day… it's not every day I get to take a break._

Lately, things had been quite rushed. Mission after mission, day in and day out—the Jedi hardly ever got to rest, let alone rest frequently.

_Should I take another Padawan? Or should I try to become a youngling guardian?_

Ry-Gaul chuckled to himself.

_As if I could stand babysitting younglings all day… I'd probably like another Padawan better._

He sighed. To be frank, he missed his old Padawan. Not only had he and Tru been a Master/Padawan duo, they'd become friends. And now, he felt like having some quiet company… someone like Tru. The more he thought about it, the more he wished that he could find another Padawan—one somewhat, if not exactly, like Tru.

He began to reminisce about one of him and Tru's latter Master/Padawan days…

XXX

He'd been standing out on his balcony, staring at the Coruscant traffic rushing around, on a night not unlike this one. It had been a busy day, full of tension and frayed nerves. He was hungry but full, tired but restless, and alert yet dazed. He wasn't sure how to handle all of it at once, and all he really wanted was someone to show him what to do.

He remembered thinking, _But if anyone says anything at all to me, they're going to regret it in a bacta tank._

Then Tru had come in, with food and water on a tray, and a blanket.

What was it that he said? 

Oh, yes… Tru had handed him the tray and said, "Here, Master. You might need these." Then Tru handed him the blanket and said, "Master, you should get some rest." The Padawan then proceeded to quietly stand next to him and accompany him in the art of traffic watching.

Somehow, the Padawan had seen right through his seemingly unreadable Master, and done the right thing—giving food, water, a blanket, and most importantly, his quiet company.

XXX

_Ah… that boy was a good one. But then, that's not to say he didn't have his faults…_

Ry-Gaul thought about one of the weightiest matters he'd ever personally encountered…

Back in the day when there were actually enough Jedi to send around in multiple Master/Padawan groups, he and his fellow Masters—Soara Antana, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Siri Tachi—had embarked with their respective Padawans—Darra Thel-Tanis, Anakin Skywalker, and Ferus Olin—on a mission to capture one of the most dangerous criminals in the galaxy, Granta Omega.

_Huh, wish we had that many Jedi to do those things now…_

On that fateful mission, Tru's lightsaber had shorted out. And unlike the reliable Padawan he usually was, he hadn't taken his lightsaber to Ry-Gaul. Instead, he'd given it to Ferus. And totally unlike the reliable Padawan he was, he hadn't turned in the faulty lightsaber either. Of course, the two apprentices managed to fix the saber, but they hadn't fixed it well enough.

_I should've picked up on Tru's unusually peculiar behavior; but no use dwelling on "what-ifs" now…_

Then in the midst of the final battle before Obi-Wan had killed Omega, Tru's lightsaber had again shorted out, putting his life in jeopardy. And Ferus, perhaps one of the noblest Padawans to ever be in the Jedi Order, had redeemed himself by, in the blink of an eye, swapping sabers with Tru.

And two nanoseconds later, a blaster bullet had fired straight at Ferus—who had the dysfunctional lightsaber.

…_And then Darra stepped in…_

Indeed, Darra, the redhead who was dear to all, dove in front of Ferus and took the shot herself—saving his life, but losing her own.

And in the aftermath that followed on that fateful day, Tru's friendship with Anakin had shattered; Ferus left the Jedi Order, and the whole Order mourned the loss of a Padawan, mentor, friend, and fellow Jedi.

XXX

_That was definitely uncharacteristic of him; I remember I picked him for his surety in doing the right thing… but he's learned from his mistakes… that boy learned well… And as much as that memory has haunted me, I'll still be proud of him…_

Now, "that boy" was a man. "That boy" had grown taller, perhaps taller than Ry-Gaul himself. "That boy" had increased in strength, in knowledge, and in wisdom. He'd become a Jedi Knight, no longer obligated to accompany his ex-Master.

_I'm going to miss having Tru as a Padawan… maybe I'll see him around, though._

As proud of Tru as he was, Ry-Gaul had known that it was time to let Tru go. Unfortunately, he hadn't been prepared for being Padawan-less, as he had been for previous Padawans. And since he was feeling incomplete, his new task was clear…

_I'm getting another Padawan. And I'll be able to get one quick, since it's almost time for Padawan-selecting._

With that thought, Ry-Gaul spun on his heel, strode into his quarters, and deliberately fell on his sleep-couch. For the first time that day, his lumbering body mass was still.


	3. Another Time Around

A month later, Ry-Gaul sat in the training room, scanning the ten Padawan-hopefuls with anxiety over being chosen. He sat with several other Jedi in elevated seats in a line along one wall of the room, each hoping that this day would be the day they would come away with a Padawan. This was the final Padawan Trial, and the day that Padawans would be chosen.

He looked down at the young Jedi learners, and suddenly realized that all but one of them was acting nervously. He leaned forward, with his left elbow on his knee and his hand on his chin, and studied that individual, a boy, carefully.

_Okay, about 1.3 meters tall, maybe 12 years old, dirty brown hair, shiny dark eyes…_

The boy stood up and activated his training lightsaber.

_Oh, and left-handed… interesting. Hmm, I wonder who he is?_

Ry-Gaul looked at the roster in his hand, and quickly deduced that the boy's name was Emeth L'aroi, a humanoid of Cloud City, a brilliant student, a jack-of-all-trades but especially skilled in mechanics, and a considerable athlete and warrior. Emeth had also scored a near-perfect score on his Padawan Trials Test.

Buzz, Hmm. The boy practiced with swift, sure strokes, doing an outstandingly fast rundown of all the moves he'd learned.

_Relaxed yet alert, fast but not rushed, completely sure of each step he takes, intensely focused but not emotionless… and looks oddly familiar… No Way_! 

Ry-Gaul stood, so fast and with such power that heads turned from all around the room. He smiled sheepishly and sat down. In a few seconds, the room returned to its previous state.

_Anakin! The boy is Anakin/Tru reincarnate!_

He furrowed his eyebrows thoughtfully. If there ever was such a thing as Tru Veld and Anakin Skywalker combined, Emeth was undeniably the full embodiment.

_Is this possible? He looks exactly like Anakin, but his manner is precisely Tru's! What is this?_

With wide eyes, he shook his head in disbelief. But before he had time to ponder how this could be, the thick durasteel doors whooshed open, and in walked Master Yoda, Master Mace Windu, and several other Council Members.

Instantly, the room was silent. The expectant Jedi waiting for Padawans sat stone-faced alongside one wall, and the Padawan hopefuls lined up against the adjacent wall.

"Let the Padawan Trials begin," boomed Mace.

"Ready to be tested, you are," declared Yoda.

A protocol droid, all shiny and polished, emerged from behind the Council Members, with blue and orange tunics in its robotic hands. It handed out blue tunics to five of the learners, and orange tunics to the other five.

Windu explained, "You are now divided into two teams. Blue, destroy all orange droids. Orange, destroy all blue droids."

Master Yoda pressed several buttons on a control panel, and the wall facing the Padawans opened.

Vwoom! All the learners quickly activated their lightsabers. Ry-Gaul was impressed that Emeth's saber was the first to ignite, though he was still more poised and relaxed than the rest.

Beep! Beep! Bwoop! Though looking a bit odd after being painted blue and orange, the still-functional typical training droids flew out of the wall, and hovered in a small cluster.

Windu continued, "Your objective is to score as many points as possible for your team. You will score one point for each droid your team destroys. However, if you destroy a droid in your team's color, you will lose a point. You will also lose a point for each hit your team receives. Be warned, the droids are programmed to shoot each and every one of you, regardless of your tunic color. Therefore, destroy all droids of your opposite color, and evade the rest. You will have three minutes. May the Force be with you."

Customary bows were exchanged, and the teams fanned out, each learner with his lightsaber held ready.

Ry-Gaul noticed that most of the young Jedi were poised in attack position, while only Emeth and his teammate on the Orange side held their lightsabers in a defensive stance.

_Interesting… I wonder how this is going to turn out?_

Yoda gave the cue to commence, and both droids and learners sprang into action.

Ry-Gaul watched all of the combat intently, but focused mainly on Emeth and the Orange group. Interestingly enough, Emeth only destroyed one or two droids, though he obviously could've destroyed more. It seemed that he had devoted all his energy into protecting his team.

_A team fighter… remarkable._

Hmm, Bzeew! Emeth deflected laser after laser from his team, and directed them cleverly to the Blue. In this manner, several of the Blue received jolts in inconvenient places from unexpected locations.

Smoke filled the air in seconds, fogging the vision of the Jedi learners. Of course, the Masters and Knights had no trouble seeing the exercise, but the learners obviously did.

_Impressive… he's still doing well_.

In fact, the smoke apparently had not impaired Emeth's vision or focus in the least. To the untrained eye, Emeth would've appeared to deflect faster.

When the three minutes had expired, the smoke slowly cleared, revealing three Blue members writhing and groaning on the floor, with singed clothes and sore bodies, and trying to hold their arms, legs, and backsides all at once. The remaining two Blue were shooting darts at Emeth with their eyes, obviously angry about his strategy.

On the other hand, the Orange had only taken two hits, courtesy of a Blue member that had finally picked up Emeth's strategy in the last few seconds.

All eyes turned to Mace Windu, who was about to announce the results.

The stern Jedi Master cleared his throat, then announced, "Blue: 25 droids and 15 hits; final score, 10 points. Orange: 18 droids and 2 hits; final score, 16 points. Congratulations, Orange, you are the victors."

Four members of the Orange erupted in cheers, but Emeth strode over to the sulking members of the Blue.

"Good work. I'm sorry you couldn't win."

The last phrase was spoken not gloatingly, but with sincerity, and caused the Blue members some shock. The remaining Orange, inspired by Emeth's example, followed suit, educing inspired looks from the seated Masters.

_Well, I think I know my Padawan to be. I'll be seeing you, Emeth L'aroi._

Yoda addressed the learners.

"Good work, you have done. Passed your examinations, all of you have. Become Padawans, you all may be. Been most noble, your conduct has been."

With the last remark, Ry-Gaul could've sworn that Yoda had winked at Emeth.

Windu addressed the seated Jedi.

"You have thirteen days to become acquainted with these young Jedi. At the end of that time, you must submit your future Padawan's name, along with your reason for your selection. Otherwise, you will not have a Padawan."

The seated Jedi nodded in understanding response.

Bows were exchanged, and the Jedi were dismissed.

_Thirteen days? Huh, my choice is made._

XXX

At the end of thirteen days, the Masters and Padawan-hopefuls gathered in the Council Room. The hopefuls stood twitching, obviously struggling to keep their anxiety and anticipation under control. Ry-Gaul noticed that amongst the young Jedi, only Emeth L'aroi was perfectly balanced and still.

Master Windu read off the names of the Masters who had selected Padawans, then the names of the Padawans who had been chosen. After several names had been called, the Master said, "Jedi Master Ry-Gaul?"

"Present."

"Emeth L'aroi?"

"Present." The boy stepped forward, smiling.

The dark-faced Master looked the boy in the eye, causing the normally composed boy to shrink back a little; but somehow, the boy managed to hold his gaze.

Windu queried, "Emeth L'aroi, will you accept your apprenticeship to Master Ry-Gaul?"

"Yes," was the immediate reply.

And with that, there became another Master/Padawan duo in the Jedi Order.

Ry-Gaul sighed a sigh of contentment.

_Ah, here we go again…_


	4. Bonding

Beep, Ba-Da-Boop, Beep! Ry-Gaul's comlink went off in the Archives, provoking stares of annoyance mixed with surprise; it wasn't everyday that a comlink went off in the Archives, and it wasn't everyday that a respected Jedi Master turned beet red. And it wasn't just the fact that his comlink went off (and loudly at that), it was the fact that his comlink was virtually blaring the song "Love a Twi'lek In Cloud City."

_EMETH!_

Once again, his Padawan had changed his comlink's ringtone and set the volume on "high".

_Well, at least it wasn't "Kiss Me, Bantha"…_

Still blushing, partly from anger but mostly from embarrassment, Ry-Gaul fumbled his comlink for a few more seconds before he finally could answer it. But by the time he'd answered, the caller had already left a message.

Ry-Gaul sighed.

_Time to get to the Council Room…again._

XXX

Master and Padawan strode out of the Council Room, reviewing the last of the mission details together.

"So basically—get in, get done, get out?"

"Yes."

The Padawan nodded in understanding, then asked, "So what if we spend more than eight-point-seven-three minutes?"

"We're dead."

"Okay… so you plan to spend eight-point-seven-two minutes?"

"At most."

Emeth let out a low whistle. "Not much time, huh?"

Ry-Gaul gave a look of mock bewilderment. "I thought it would be plenty."

"Ooh, so you plan to get it done in under eight minutes?"

"Unless you need more time."

"No… SEVEN minutes… at most."

"Oh, really?"

"Unless you need more time." Emeth shot a mischievous grin at his Master.

"Humph."

"Well, if we take less than seven minutes, you clean my airspeeder."

"That's disgusting." After all, Emeth was not known for the cleanliness of his personal vehicle.

"I'll clean yours if we take more."

"Deal. And Emeth?"

"Yes, Master?"

"Jedi don't gamble."

"But my betting against my Master is not a gamble."

"Then what is it?"

"An investment!"

Ry-Gaul stopped in his tracks in pseudo astonishment, as Emeth let out a nervous giggle and prudently made some space between them.

"Heh, just… kidding?" he offered feebly.

Seconds later, there was the sound of a Padawan being chased by his Master that echoed through the Temple corridors.

XXX

"So, how are you supposed to fly this winged box?" Emeth skeptical eyes narrowed at their vehicle-to-be.

The little ship wasn't much on the outside, and seemingly worse on the inside. A dull, brownish-orange paint had been freshly sprayed on the outside of the 'winged box', but it hadn't done much good. In fact, it was already cracking and peeling from the extremely dented contraption. On the inside, large knobs and levers stood out at odd angles from the control panel. There was merely one screen in the entirety of the tiny machine, and it was cracked.

"It'll work."

"But how are you going to fly it?"

"I'm not."

"You're not?"

"Nope."

"So I'M flying it? But Master! I've never even seen one of these before!"

"So?"

The Padawan sighed in exasperation. "Flying this THING is impossible! I couldn't do it even if I tried!"

"Wrong."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"There is no try, there is only do."

"Fine," Emeth accepted. "You show me how; I'll fly it."

"Wrong again."

"You're kidding."

"Not."

"So I have to figure this out myself?"

"Pretty much."

"But we're headed into the middle of a warring planet!"

"And…?"

"Alright. Have it your way."

"Thank you."

"But if we die, it's your fault."

"Seven minutes?"

"Aargh!"

"So we agree; I win?"

"Yeah. So you're saying that I have seven minutes to fly this hunk of scrap metal through hundreds of fighting who-knows-what's, grab the safe of Sith artifacts, fly through the warfare again, and get our rears safely away?"

"You have a second more."

"But who wants to clean your airspeeder?"

Ry-Gaul had to laugh. "It was your idea."

The Padawan groaned.

The Master grinned widely, then reached into his tunic pocket. "Here." Ry-Gaul passed a thick stack of datasheets to his sighing apprentice. "You'll need the manual."

"Great." The Padawan rolled his eyes and groaned again.

"Enjoy!" Ry-Gaul smiled cheerfully and checked the 'ship' one last time before strapping himself in.

_This apprenticeship should be fun._


	5. So Much For Investing

-2.74 minutes elapsed-

"I sense a trap," commented Emeth.

"So…?"

"Spring it," replied the apprentice with a sly grin.

Carefully but quickly, the two Jedi strode down the pitch-black tunnel, using the Force to see any obstacles.

Bzeew! Bzeew! Bzeew! Suddenly, a barrage of laserbolts fired from several droids. From a crevice in the tunnel, a score of silvery orbs flew out, firing lasers as they came at the Master/Padawan pair.

Vwoom! Buzz, Kssshhh! The duo quickly annihilated the droids, deactivated their sabers, and began running down the remaining length of the tunnel before the final droid hit the ground and crackled its last.

-3.92 minutes elapsed-

"Master… super-thick, solid door laced with alarm triggers, Sith artifacts just on the other side… do we have a plan?" The Padawan, looking a bit sick from the Dark energy radiating from the other side of the door, looked to his Master in question.

In answer, the Master, looking a smidge queasy himself, re-ignited his lightsaber, and quickly reduced each of the 18 alarms before his Padawan had time to blink.

"Happy?"

"Yes, Master."

With that, the two gritted their teeth against the Dark Side of the Force and began busily carving a hole through the 3-meter-thick door.

-5.18 minutes elapsed-

"Aargh!" with a final grunt and a push, the two Jedi burst into the center of a small pyramid. In the center of the room was a black table with a black, shiny box sitting in its center—the obvious source of the concentrated Dark Side. Surrounding the table and box was a myriad of cultish symbols, each carved into the floor and laced with synthetic Sith lightsaber crystals.

"Lets get this over with," panted Emeth.

"Good idea." Ry-Gaul panted back.

The Dark Side was present so much inside the pyramid that it had tightened the Jedi's lungs, making it hard for them to breathe. Of course, the slight mustiness and the limited supply of air in the dome didn't help them much, either.

Breathing as deeply as he could to get enough oxygen, Ry-Gaul deliberately marched to the table, took another deep breath, and grabbed the box.

"Let's go."

-7.30 minutes elapsed-

"Wow, glad that's over," sighed the Padawan.

"Not yet," reminded Ry-Gaul. "We must take the artifacts to the Temple."

"Great." Emeth spoke with more disappointment than expected.

Ry-Gaul smothered a laugh. On top of taking an unpleasant amount of artifacts back to the Temple, his Padawan had to also clean the Master's airspeeder.

"I can't believe this," complained the Padawan, "I lost a bet!"

"You mean 'investment,'" teased the Master.

"Aww…"

"Cheer up. We did a good job."

And it was true. They'd made it through the warring line of ships, broken into a Sith stronghold, taken the box of artifacts, gone through the warring ships again, and now were on their merry way back to the Temple… all in seven-point-three minutes. To top it off, the only "downside" was a smelly vehicle—thanks to Emeth puking all over it.

He'll have fun cleaning that up.

"Would you like to fly us?"

"Nah… you can."

With a laugh, Ry-Gaul fired up the ship, and they were off.


	6. Not a Chance

Boop! Boop! Boop! Ry-Gaul picked up his beeping comlink, now set back to its standard tone. He looked at the message, and his stolid face took up a solemn expression.

He informed his Padawan, "We need to get back faster."

"Why, Master? We're already going pretty fast."

"The Temple is sending out a desperation signal. We need to get back and help."

"Got it." The Padawan, now in the pilot's seat, accelerated the vehicle to its maximum speed in hyperspace.

Two hours later…

Boom! Boom! Several explosions sent sparks flying everywhere in the Coruscant sky. The Temple, now partly aflame and under attack, stood out even more in the twilight.

Veeew! Ry-Gaul, once again the pilot, quickly landed the ship.

"Let's go."

The two Jedi leaped into the fray. Deflecting blaster bolts in all directions, their sabers swirled and spiraled in tandem, and taking down clones as they went. They forced their way into the smoke-filled Temple, searching for any Jedi. Already, both were fatigued with the dying Force signatures of their fellow Jedi and the intense barrage of lasers. They looked up ahead into a slightly clearer area.

Wait… That's not supposed to be there.

Ry-Gaul stopped in astonishment. That "clearer area" wasn't just a space. It was a hole, a huge, gaping hole that was in the door to the Archives. Even more astounding was the fact that there were two shapes with lightsabers engaged in battle. Both were familiar to Ry-Gaul.

That can't be…

In disbelief, he tapped the Force to clear the smoke, and the realization of the identities of the fighting forms was painfully clear: Anakin Skywalker and Tru Veld. Then, there was a surge of horror that flowed through Ry-Gaul's body. The fight was a fight to the death, with Anakin on the Dark Side. Furthermore, Tru was losing.

Ry-Gaul began running toward the fighting forms, but a wall of the Dark side stopped him.

NO!

In agony, he understood what was going on. Anakin was going to kill Tru, and had formed an impenetrable wall of the Dark Side.

Whoosh! Suddenly, it felt as if a vacuum had been activated in Ry-Gaul's body. It forced him to the ground, holding his head and writhing in pain.

"Aargh!" he bellowed in anguish. The agony made it piercingly clear: Tru Veld, his former Padawan, was dead.

"Aargh!" Emeth also shouted, but he was still standing. Obviously, his tie to Tru was barely there, but it was enough.

The two Jedi moaned in distress, confusion temporarily clouding their heads.

No, Tru… gone.

But now was not the time to grieve. It was the time for defense, the time to try to save the remaining Jedi.

"Let's move."

Ten minutes later…

Kssshhh! Vwoom! Buzz. Hmm.

Three lightsabers twirled again and again, and clashed over and over.

"Anakin, give up!" Ry-Gaul roared. "Stop!"

"Never." Darth Vader's cold voice went straight to Ry-Gaul's heart.

Kssshhh! Buzz.

Why is this happening? How can this be? What's going on? The questions whirled around in Ry-Gaul's head.

Their battle wore on, until it was obviously Night. Both Jedi were exhausted, but Darth Vader seemed just as strong as ever. Nevertheless, the Jedi didn't give up—it was a fight to the death.

"Keep fighting, Emeth!" Ry-Gaul murmured his Padawan, who was already slowing down. But it was too late.

Hiss! In the blink of an eye, Darth Vader had plunged his lightsaber into Emeth's chest. The boy's eyes froze open, and glazed over. Emeth L'aroi was dead.

I will lament later… now I must fight.

"AAAARRGH!" Ry-Gaul lunged at Vader, unleashing a flurry of attacks and temporarily silencing the former Jedi. He kept it up for several minutes, but eventually slowed.

Now it was Vader's turn. The Sith Lord let loose a torrent of attacks, powered by the Dark Side, and gradually wore out the Jedi Master.

Finally, the moment came. Ry-Gaul made his faux pas, and Vader jumped at the chance. He thrust his lightsaber blade deep into the Jedi's chest, laughing as Ry-Gaul's body froze, and then went limp.

"HA HA HA!" Apparently, Vader had read Ry-Gaul's mind. "You will never get the chance to mourn your Padawans." With that, the Sith Lord left the Archives.

 **_End _**


End file.
